10-29-2021, 10:41 PM
Beechbone scurries down the mountain path on silent feet and plunges into the vast sea of soft grey fog to look for Jack. The fog obscures everything but her whiskers show her the way, her Opossum-Sense tugging her this way and that as she winds through the ultra-foggy canyon. She's never been to Pangea so she isn't sure if it's usually this foggy, but it's honestly a bit much. Who does Pangea think it is with all this fog, Taiga?
Something in the dark hisses and the opossum-girl freezes, something in the darkness that smells just awful. Way worse than the snow ape did. A figure looms just ahead, staggering towards her. A wolf howls in the background.
It's just your imagination, she tells herself, but even as she does, the mist clears just enough for her to see the creature. Beechbone doesn't recognize their face, grey and twisted and melting into death. The stallion's eyes are white and wide and he leers at her through the parting fog, which falls to stir at their feet and reveal that he is not alone, and they are close - oh so close. Has she come all this way just to fail now? Just to--
Is that music?
Somewhere, distantly, in the fog and the dark, music careens plaintively against the canyon walls.
'Cuz this is thrillerrrrr
Thriller night
There ain't no second chance
Against the thing with the forty eyes, girl
She can't fully trust her eyes, but none of the ghouls around her seem to have four, so maybe there's a glimmer of hope after all. The dead are creeping closer, their steps in hypnotizing unison and she lets the stallion get so much closer to her than she should, transfixed by their otherworldly rhythm.
"Girl, I can thrill you more
Than any ghoul could ever dare try"
(Thriller) Ooh, ooh
(Thriller night)
"So let me hold you tight
And share a"
(Killer, thriller)
"Oh I'm gonna thrill you tonight"
He's so close that she should be able to feel the breath of his words, but of course, he hasn't any. The brush of cold flesh breaks her stupor.
"Oh, ah, wow. No. Thank you, but yeah, no, I'm okay." Her long nose bares pin-sharp teeth at the stallion as she steps away from him, a shiver running the length of her spine, but as she does so, the rest of them press in around her greedily.
"I mean it!" Beechbone shouts, her voice wavering. The stallion's leer becomes a graveyard grin, the exposed bone of his jaw wet with some dark fluid. They're about to leap on her when instinct takes over and the young (giant) opossum drops to the ground with a gurgling hiss. A foul-smelling fluid expels from her anal glands, filling the canyon with a scent far worse than the perfume of the Dead. The music stops abruptly with a jagged screech.
"Oh shit, oh fuck, oh that's so gross!" The dead stallion rears back, his compatriots in step falling backward as well, "Oh my god I think I stepped in it, oh shit. Oh shit!"
They are not the silent dead tonight, disappearing back into the night and the fog with varying noises of disgust and disbelief, but Beechbone doesn't notice for a few minutes and by the time her torpor dissolves, quiet reigns again. She wakes with a yawn to find Jack's burning eyes flickering in the risen fog.
Finally.
Something in the dark hisses and the opossum-girl freezes, something in the darkness that smells just awful. Way worse than the snow ape did. A figure looms just ahead, staggering towards her. A wolf howls in the background.
It's just your imagination, she tells herself, but even as she does, the mist clears just enough for her to see the creature. Beechbone doesn't recognize their face, grey and twisted and melting into death. The stallion's eyes are white and wide and he leers at her through the parting fog, which falls to stir at their feet and reveal that he is not alone, and they are close - oh so close. Has she come all this way just to fail now? Just to--
Is that music?
Somewhere, distantly, in the fog and the dark, music careens plaintively against the canyon walls.
'Cuz this is thrillerrrrr
Thriller night
There ain't no second chance
Against the thing with the forty eyes, girl
She can't fully trust her eyes, but none of the ghouls around her seem to have four, so maybe there's a glimmer of hope after all. The dead are creeping closer, their steps in hypnotizing unison and she lets the stallion get so much closer to her than she should, transfixed by their otherworldly rhythm.
"Girl, I can thrill you more
Than any ghoul could ever dare try"
(Thriller) Ooh, ooh
(Thriller night)
"So let me hold you tight
And share a"
(Killer, thriller)
"Oh I'm gonna thrill you tonight"
He's so close that she should be able to feel the breath of his words, but of course, he hasn't any. The brush of cold flesh breaks her stupor.
"Oh, ah, wow. No. Thank you, but yeah, no, I'm okay." Her long nose bares pin-sharp teeth at the stallion as she steps away from him, a shiver running the length of her spine, but as she does so, the rest of them press in around her greedily.
"I mean it!" Beechbone shouts, her voice wavering. The stallion's leer becomes a graveyard grin, the exposed bone of his jaw wet with some dark fluid. They're about to leap on her when instinct takes over and the young (giant) opossum drops to the ground with a gurgling hiss. A foul-smelling fluid expels from her anal glands, filling the canyon with a scent far worse than the perfume of the Dead. The music stops abruptly with a jagged screech.
"Oh shit, oh fuck, oh that's so gross!" The dead stallion rears back, his compatriots in step falling backward as well, "Oh my god I think I stepped in it, oh shit. Oh shit!"
They are not the silent dead tonight, disappearing back into the night and the fog with varying noises of disgust and disbelief, but Beechbone doesn't notice for a few minutes and by the time her torpor dissolves, quiet reigns again. She wakes with a yawn to find Jack's burning eyes flickering in the risen fog.
Finally.
Beechbone
The foulest stench is in the air